


From Here On Out

by flipflop_diva



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Canon Compliant, Gen, Male-Female Friendship, Natasha Romanov Is Not A Robot, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, On the Run, POV Steve Rogers, Post-Civil War (Marvel), Protective Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov Friendship, Trust, Trust Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-19
Updated: 2018-06-19
Packaged: 2019-05-17 12:06:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14831981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flipflop_diva/pseuds/flipflop_diva
Summary: The Accords, the search for Bucky, the fight at the airport ... In a world where nothing will ever be the same, sometimes the road to rebuilding trust and friendship is a little rockier than it should be.AKA, the story of Steve & Natasha and how they got to where they are.Set post-Civil War but pre-Infinity War.





	From Here On Out

**Author's Note:**

  * For [The_Wavesinger](https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Wavesinger/gifts).



> Written for the Fandom 5k Fest for The_Waveslinger, who gave me a million amazing prompts, which led to this. I hope you enjoy!

He found the burner phone tucked down next to the pilot seat on the Quinjet during the flight to Wakanda. His head was still spinning from everything that happened, his mind still reeling trying to take it all in.

The Avengers were officially over. He and Tony had just tried to kill each other. Sam and Clint and Scott and Wanda were probably locked up somewhere. Rhodey was seriously injured. Nat was on the run.

“Come on,” T’Challa had said to them, helping them back into the Quinjet. “Follow me. I can help you.”

They hadn’t asked why he was helping when he had been on the other side just the day before, but Steve and Bucky were both too wounded, too upset, too miserable to question it. They just did what T’Challa told them — got in the Quinjet and flew.

Halfway to Wakanda, Steve took one hand off the wheel, let it hang beside him — and he felt it. A small slim black burner phone. He stared at it for a long time before flipping it open. There was one phone number programmed in.

He didn’t have to wonder where it came from. He did wonder when she put it there and why she’d been carrying a burner phone in the first place, but one thing Natasha always was was prepared. Sometimes overly.

He tucked the phone in his pocket and followed T’Challa the rest of the way to Wakanda.

•••

He texted her the first night they were in Wakanda, when he stood off to the side as Bucky engaged in an intense conversation with T’Challa and his sister Shuri. 

“Thank you,” was all he said.

A few minutes later he got back a smiley face. He pocketed the phone again.

He texted her a couple days later. Bucky had decided, and T’Challa and Shuri had agreed, that it was best for him to go back into cryofreeze. Shuri would work on a cure for his triggers while he was in there, and as soon as she had one, they would defrost him. Steve had wanted to protest, hating to be away from Buck again, but it wasn’t his decision, and he knew he would never change their minds anyway.

But it had made him wonder, made him worry.

“Are you okay?” he texted Natasha.

She didn’t text him back.

He tried a different tactic a few days later.

“I need your help,” he texted.

Sure enough, five minutes later she had texted back. “Anything.”

He told her what he needed. Less than twelve hours later, Shuri handed him the encrypted message that had come through for him. He showed the list of detailed instructions for breaking into the Raft to T’Challa.

“I cannot come with you,” T’Challa said. “But Shuri and I can get you everything you need.”

“Thank you,” Steve told him sincerely, and repeated it the next morning when they stood beside the Quinjet saying goodbye.

T’Challa nodded. “Good luck getting back your friends. And if there is anything you need, you know I am here.”

“I owe you a lot,” Steve said, before finally asking what he had wanted to ask the entire time. “Even if I don’t understand why you’re helping me. And the rest of us.”

T’Challa smiled. “Things are not always as one thinks they are,” he said. “And when I have made a mistake, I like to correct it.”

“I think we all made mistakes,” Steve said ruefully. 

“Yes, we did,” T’Challa said. He paused for just a moment. “When you see Agent Romanoff again, tell her I am sorry for turning her in.”

Steve frowned, a little surprised. “How do you know I’ll see Natasha?”

T’Challa gestured at him. “You talk to her, do you not? She is your friend. You care about her. You are not abandoning your other friends, and you will not abandon her.”

“No,” Steve said, “I won’t.”

He didn’t bother mentioning that if Natasha didn’t want to be found that he would never find her, no matter how much he missed her company. Instead he thanked T’Challa again, bid him farewell, and slid into the Quinjet to take off into the night.

•••

_The mission had not gone well. Steve was furious, so furious he knew everyone on board the Quinjet could tell, but he didn’t care. He was going to get back to headquarters, march straight up on to Fury’s office and demand a new partner._

_He didn’t care how good she was, or how in sync they had worked in New York. He wasn’t doing this._

_He glanced over at her. She was watching him, her face impassive, her eyes cool. For a second, he wondered what happened to the women he had fought side-by-side with in New York. She had smiled then, had seemed almost warm._

_But he knew what happened. He hadn’t read her file, even though Fury had offered it to him — it had seemed too intrusive and he would rather her tell him what she wanted him to know — but he couldn’t help hearing the rumors and the gossip that spread from SHELD agent to SHIELD agent faster than his shield could fly. Natasha was an ex-assassin, an ex-spy. She lied like she breathed. No one trusted her. Except Barton, and he was on leave._

_Steve hadn’t believed any of it — not the rumors that she would stab her partners in the back if it meant getting out alive, not the other rumors that Fury paired her with Steve because no one else wanted to work with her — until today._

_She was supposed to be his_ partner _. She was supposed to be his_ backup _, but five minutes into the mission, the gunfire had started and she was no where to be found. The intel had been wrong and there were hostiles lying in wait. They had surrounded them._

_Steve had gotten all his agents out alive, but it had only been by pure luck. Most of them were injured, many of them lucky to be walking._

_She sauntered on to the jet two minutes after he’d knocked out the last hostile, looking like she hadn’t a care in the world, not a single red hair out of place._

_He’d stared at her._

_“Where were you?” he’d demanded._

_“Not for you to worry about,” she’d said, and went to take her seat._

_He wanted to say more, but he knew if he tried talking to her, he was only going to explode, and he couldn’t do that now, not in front of everyone else. But the anger he felt didn’t subside the entire way back to the Triskelion._

_She brushed against him seconds after they landed. He opened his mouth, but before he could even think what to say, she had leaned in._

_“I didn’t ask for this either,” she said, and then she was gone, disappearing down the ramp._

_He glared after her, his speech to Fury already written in his head._

•••

Steve hadn’t expected life on the run to be at all easy, but even with his low expectations, it was a lot worse than he could have imagined. T’Challa had helped them out a lot, giving them access to funds to get by and setting them up with contacts in various cities, but it was draining — not having anything with them but the clothes on their back, moving every couple of days, trying to keep their heads down and stay out of sight so no one would notice them.

Steve’s beard was finally growing out. Wanda’s hair was red now. (She made him ache for Natasha when Steve looked at her.) Sam had lost weight.

It was just the three of them. Clint and Scott had lasted only a couple of days before making a deal with General Ross to come in. They would be on house arrest, but they could be with their families. Steve didn’t blame them at all. If he’d had a family to go back to, he wouldn’t have hesitated either.

Instead, his family was the two people left with him, the ones by his side as they slept in rundown motels or in abandoned cabins. 

He thought about them now as he sat on the deck of the latest shack they were staying in, hidden far from civilization in the remote corners of Ireland. He wasn’t sure how long they could do this, how long they could keep running, but he also wasn’t sure what other options they had.

The last time he had spoken to T’Challa, he had gotten the impression that something was brewing in Wakanda, some sort of trouble that the king was not about to share. But even if everything was perfect there, Steve knew he couldn’t very well ask Wakanda to house three of the world’s most wanted fugitives.

Going home wasn’t an option either. Even if Tony ever called the number he had sent him on a burner phone (the number to the phone Natasha had left for him), he knew Ross wouldn’t accept deals for the three of them. It was one thing to make deals with two men who had families — it made Ross look better to the public — but Steve, Wanda and Sam had no such connections. Besides, Wanda was too powerful and Steve had caused too much damage. There was no going back.

But he also wasn’t really sure how to go forward.

He was so focused on trying to figure out a plan — any plan — that he didn’t even hear the door open or the footsteps beside him until Sam’s voice sounded in his ear.

“You should just call her.”

Steve started. “What?” he asked, turning his head to look at his friend.

Sam gestured. “Don’t think I don’t see you checking that phone every ten minutes to see if she texted.” Sam grinned. “I know you aren’t checking to see if Tony called.”

Steve glanced down at his hand. He hadn’t even realized he had taken the burner phone out of his pocket.

“I can’t,” he told Sam.

“Why? Because her life on the run is probably so much more glamourous than ours?”

Steve thought about Natasha, about the undercover missions they had gone on back before SHIELD fell. He had envied the way she could so easily become someone else every time, even if it had unnerved him all the same. But she could be anywhere now, be _anyone_. 

It was almost as if Sam could read his mind.

“Just because she can blend in easier than we can doesn’t mean she’s okay with it. She gave up that life a long time ago.”

Steve glanced down at the burner phone in his hand. “I know,” he said.

“Maybe you could start with telling her you miss her.” 

Steve sighed, ran the hand not gripping on to the phone through his air. “I don’t know if it’s that easy,” he said. “A lot happened.”

“I know,” Sam said, and Steve detected a slight note of bitterness. “I was there. I watched her stand next to Stark. But you’re the one who told me she let you and Barnes go.”

“She was never against us.”

“It sort of seemed that way.”

Steve shook his head. He’d had a lot of time to think. Those days in Wakanda, and now on the run, had given him that. He wanted to ask her, but it wasn’t something to ask someone in a text. Besides, he knew she would never answer. 

“She just wanted us to stay together,” he told Sam not, putting voice to everything he had concluded since he had last seen her. “The Avengers were the closest thing to a family she’s ever had.”

“Then maybe you should text her to let her know the rest of the family wants her back.”

Steve met Sam’s eyes, looked carefully at the expression on his face.

“And you and Wanda would be okay if she was with us?”

Sam shrugged. “I’m not saying it would be easy, but none of this is.” He grinned then. “Besides, watching her try to cook breakfast was one of the highlights of my life. How someone who is so perfect at everything else can be so bad at flipping omelet, I will never know.”

Sam laughed at the memory, and Steve let himself join in, the burner phone in his hand pressing its weight into his palm.

•••

_It was freezing. And the little cave they were hunkered down in barely did anything to block the wind._

_They had matches for a fire, but the entrance to the hideout they were watching was only yards away and they couldn’t risk giving away their location. Instead, they just had to wait, probably until just before dawn, when the targets would make their appearance to do their daily check of the compound, before attacking._

_Even through his suit and the extra layers, Steve could feel the sting of the wind biting in to him. He looked to his right. Natasha was curled a little into herself, her arms wrapped around her abdomen. He could tell she was shivering._

_“Come here,” he said softly to her._

_She turned her head to stare at him, for a second looking like she was surprised to see him there. He lifted an arm._

_“I’m warmer than you,” he told her. “It might help.”_

_She looked like she perhaps wanted to argue, but a gust of wind picked up in that moment and instead she scooted over, fitting herself against Steve’s body as he wrapped an arm around her, drawing her close to him._

_“Thanks,” she murmured softly._

_“Don’t mention it,” he said. “You’re really not much use to me if you freeze to death out there. Plus, the paperwork, you know. That would just be a pain.”_

_He felt her laugh against his chest where she had pressed her face against him._

_He wrapped his other arm around her as well, locking her against him to protect her as much as he could against the wind. They had never been so intimate before. She’d taken his arm on missions when they were undercover. She’d even held his hand. But nothing compared to the way they were huddled together now._

_He was surprised to find it felt nice._

_“So,” he heard Natasha say after a few moments of silence. “Are you dating anyone? I know a few women you might like.”_

_Now, it was his turn to laugh._

_Hours later, when dawn finally began to break, they got what they came for. Two of the four targets came out of the building to begin their morning inspection._

_He and Natasha moved in together in perfect unison, each one taking a man. The commotion drew the other two out of the building. When he noticed one of them had Natasha in a chokehold, and she seemed to be struggling just slightly, he aimed his shield at his head and knocked him loose. A few minutes later, she leapt on to the man who Steve hadn’t seen coming up behind him, taking him to the ground, trapped between her legs._

_They nodded at each other when it was all over, small smiles on each of their lips. He almost believed the smile on hers was genuine._

_He didn’t think he was ever going to fully trust her — in the back of his mind, he would always worry she was playing him — but at least he knew now they could work together well._

_And that, he thought, was nice._

•••

It took him three days, and another move to a different abandoned house in a different part of Ireland, before he texted her again. He wasn’t sure why he was so nervous. If she said no …

If she said no, he was going to be disappointed.

Sam was right. He did miss her. Somewhere along the line, in between SHIELD falling and fighting Hydra and defeating Ultron and leading the new Avengers, she had become almost like a piece of him. He was so used to her being around, so used to her just being there …

And as much as he told himself that Natasha had never so much in words told him she felt anywhere close to the same, he knew if she said no, if she chose her solitary life over joining them, that it was going to be that much harder to keep living this life on the run.

But he had never been a coward, and he wasn’t going to let a burner phone defeat him now.

“I miss you,” he texted her.

He wasn’t sure what he was expecting. Part of him thought maybe she wouldn’t answer at all, the same way she hadn’t answered before when he’d asked her if she was okay.

But the reply was almost immediate. “Rogers, are you going soft on me?”

“We’ve got space for one more,” he texted. 

This time, she didn’t text back. Steve sighed, and after ten minutes of staring at an empty screen, stuck the phone back in his pocket.

“It was worth a shot,” he said to Sam and Wanda that night.

“Perhaps she is thinking it over,” Wanda suggested.

Steve knew she had a point. Natasha never did anything without serious consideration. If she thought in any way that joining them would compromise any of them, she would never agree. But the more cynical, disappointed part of himself wondered if she just didn’t feel like she belonged with them anymore.

He had thanked her, right after everything had happened, but he hadn’t apologized to her, hadn’t told her he was sorry for not listening to her when she tried to warn him what would happen. He wasn’t sorry for going after Bucky or for helping his friend, but he was sorry that she had gotten hurt because of it. If the Avengers had been her family — and he was pretty sure he was right about that — then he had been the one to take that away from her. Could he really blame her for not wanting to come back and pretend it was all okay? Maybe it was easier for her to be a world away from them.

Sam and Wanda were still looking at him sympathetically, as though he had told them his puppy had just died.

“It’s her decision,” he said, and he forced himself to sound as upbeat as he could. “Maybe someday she’ll change her mind.”

But he knew in his heart he didn’t really believe that.

•••

_It had been three months since he had said goodbye to Natasha at Fury’s gravesite. He hadn’t heard from her, but he hadn’t expected to. They had shared something incredibly intense, but the fall of SHIELD was harder on her than it was on him, and he understood she needed time. He just hoped she came back at some point._

_He’d already found himself a new mission. He and Sam were spending days and nights tracking down leads on Bucky. They had come up empty every single time, and part of Steve was growing more frustrated and disappointed by the day, but he was also grateful for having something — and someone — to keep him busy._

_He was also spending time relearning what it was like to not have people to answer to and missions he was required to go on. He and Sam went to the gym, went running, spent time cooking. Steve was even starting to work on his art again._

_But every time he let his thoughts drift, he inevitably wondered where Natasha might be and if she was okay. He wasn’t sure if she even remembered a time when she hadn’t had handlers and people making decisions for her. He couldn’t imagine how incredibly hard it must be for her to suddenly be adrift._

_He was thinking this now as he finished tinkering with the new piece he had been doodling. Without even consciously deciding to do it, he had drawn her, the way she had looked when they sat side-by-side on Sam’s guest bed and he had assured her that he did, in fact, trust her with his life. She had looked at him with such vulnerability in her eyes in that moment, it had almost broken his heart a little._

_But it was getting late, and he and Sam were off to hunt down another lead in the morning. Steve carefully put his pencils and notebook away, taking his long-empty coffee cup to the sink to wash out. It was nice staying with Sam, instead of alone in his own apartment. He hadn’t been able to go back to the one he’d had before SHIELD fell, not with the bad memories attached to it, and he hadn’t really enjoyed the thought of trying to find something new, but Sam had offered and he had accepted and it was nicer than he’d expected._

_He didn’t realize at first what woke him up. The room was still dark, the apartment completely silent._

_And then he felt the slight shift in the mattress beside him, heard the tiny exhale of breath, and he was flipping over, ready to attack._

_At the last second, something made him hold back. He froze, his hand inches away from grabbing the shadow of the person he could just make out through the dark._

_“Hey, soldier,” she drawled, and Steve wasn’t sure whether to laugh or growl in frustration._

_Instead, he settled for dropping back into his spot on the bed and flipping on the lamp beside him._

_“I could have hurt you,” he finally said, turning to look at her._

_She was smiling at him, looking just as beautiful as she had the day she disappeared from his life. Her hair was a little longer, and he thought she looked a touch thinner, but her eyes were sparkling as she took him in._

_“I think you mean I could have hurt you,” she said._

_He snorted. “Sure, Nat,” and then, “Usually I recommend knocking on the front door, but it’s good to see you.”_

_“Yeah?” she said._

_“Yeah,” he told her, and he thought her smile grew just a little bit wider._

•••

It had been ten days since Steve had texted Natasha and gotten no answer. He hadn’t tried again. He wasn’t sure what to say to her that wouldn’t feel awkward on his end.

In those ten days, he, Sam and Wanda had moved two more times, leaving Ireland behind and heading into Scotland.

“We are going to run out of places to go,” Wanda said, as she looked around at their new location, taking in the dust-covered surfaces. It was an old farmhouse, the location given to them via a contact of T’Challa’s, but it looked as if it hadn’t been used in years. Maybe decades. But at least that meant no one would be turning up to use it anytime soon.

“Nah,” Sam said, “The world is huge,” but Wanda didn’t look convinced. Steve figured she and Sam were as tired of this life as he was, but just like him, none of them had a better idea.

“Well,” Wanda said, moving over to the kitchen and wiping her finger through the layer of dust on the counter, “we’re going to need to do a little cleaning if we want to be able to cook here later.”

“I can help with that,” came a voice that definitely wasn’t Sam’s. Or Steve’s.

All three of them spun around. Standing there, as if she had been there the whole time, was the one person Steve had been desperately wishing to see.

Gone were the long red locks she’d had the last time he had seen her. Instead, her hair was short, almost as short as it had been back when he’d first met her all those years ago, but now it was platinum blonde, almost white.

She looked a little worse for wear. She was paler than he remembered (but maybe it was the blonde hair). Her lip was puffy, and he thought he could see faded bruises around her right eye. She was dressed in jeans and a black hoodie, the sleeves so long they covered up her hands, but she was smiling at them.

“Nat,” he whispered, and for a moment he was afraid to move, afraid that if he moved toward her, she would disappear into the dust-covered air.

But she stepped toward him, and he couldn’t wait any longer. In two strides he was next to her, lifting her into his arms as he gathered her into an enormous hug.

“I thought you weren’t coming,” he whispered, as he finally set her back down on her feet. He noticed she kept her arms around his neck, though.

“I thought you guys could use my help,” she said. 

She, almost reluctantly it seemed, dropped her arms from Steve’s neck, turning to hug Sam and then Wanda.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Steve told her sincerely. 

“Me too,” Sam said.

“Me too,” Wanda said.

•••

Steve didn’t get to talk to Natasha alone until that night. She did as she said she would and helped them clean the farmhouse. Together, the four of them scrubbed away as much of the dirt as they could, discovered to their great relief that the washing machine worked and made themselves a dinner that was more luxurious than any they’d had in the past few months, thanks to the bags of groceries Natasha had shown up with.

She asked them about the places they’d been and they talked about the little they each knew about everyone else who had been part of that horrible airport fight.

Natasha, to Steve, seemed cautious with Sam and Wanda, but if they held any grudges, they weren’t outwardly showing it, and he was grateful. He knew there would probably be bumps along the road, but he felt better with the four of them together at last.

The farmhouse had just two rooms. Sam had already claimed the couch, since he had gotten the bed in their last few places. Wanda took one of the rooms, and Steve and Natasha took the other. 

It wasn’t anything new. She’d spent a lot of time sleeping next to Steve since she snuck into Sam’s apartment all those years ago. They had both discovered it was comforting. Nightmares were less when they were together, and just having someone nearby made everything seem more hopeful.

They lay in bed now, side by side, facing each other. Natasha’s hand was on the mattress between them, and Steve’s hand was over hers, playing with her fingers.

They watched each other for a long spell before Steve finally broke the silence.

“How did you find us?” he asked her.

She shrugged. “I’ve been tracking you for a long time. T’Challa’s not the only one with connections.”

He studied her. “You tracked the phone you gave me, didn’t you?”

Her lip curled up into a familiar smirk. “Don’t worry,” she said. “I used SHIELD technology. No one else would be able to track it but me.”

“Okay,” he said, “So you’ve known where we are the whole time. Why did you wait until now to come?”

She smirked again. “I wasn’t invited before.”

“You know that’s not true, Nat.”

The smirk instantly vanished from her face, replaced with a more serious expression. “I wasn’t sure if I was wanted.” She glanced down at their hands still intermingled on the bed. “I wasn’t on your side.”

“You helped Bucky and I escape,” Steve said quietly. “You helped me break them all out of the Raft.”

“I should have helped you before,” she said. “When it would have mattered.”

“None of this is your fault,” Steve said. “You couldn’t have stopped me.”

“But I could have been there! Maybe if I had …”

“No.” Steve cut her off, his fingers now holding hers a little tighter in his grasp. “It wouldn’t have made a difference. You did what you thought was right.”

Natasha still wasn’t looking at him. She was still studying their hands, like they were the most interesting thing she’d ever seen. “I don’t know any more if it was right. It doesn’t really seem like it.”

“Nat, look at me.”

She did. 

Steve took in her expression. She looked worried, almost a little afraid. Her green eyes were wide, and he felt like she was letting him look deep inside her. For a second, he marveled at just how far they had come. 

“I know how much the Avengers meant — mean — to you,” he told her seriously. “I know how much it cost you to turn against Tony at the airport. I’m the one who’s sorry. I never should have put you in that situation.”

Natasha shook her head. “It’s not your fault, Steve. I made a choice.”

“Because of me,” he told her. “You chose to help me.”

Natasha blinked. She let her tongue dart out, wetting her lips, like she was preparing herself for what she was going to say next.

“Of course I did,” she finally said. “ _You’re_ my family.”

He let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding. Then he let go of her hand, instead reaching out for her. She wiggled toward him, and he pulled her into his arms, holding her against his chest.

“Promise me you won’t leave,” he said. “I need you here. I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” she whispered into his chest.

“And you won’t leave?”

“Not if you let me stay.”

“I’m never letting you go, Natasha Romanoff. You are stuck with me.”

He felt, more than heard, her laugh against his chest. He also thought he maybe felt a speck of water near the same spot.

“I guess I’m okay with that,” she said.

“I guess you better be,” he told her, and he felt her laugh again.

He kept his arms around her, kept her pressed against him. He knew for sure a few minutes later that his shirt was a lot damper than it had been before he pulled her close, but he didn’t say anything, just held on to her, until she drifted off to sleep in his arms.

He followed close behind her, waking up hours later with the pleased realization that she was still next to him, just as she had promised she would be.


End file.
